Day three in Dubai finds me holed up in my hotel room, having called in sick with what I suspect to be the flu. My muscles ache so much I can hardly move, my lungs are full of goo, and my sleep is disrupted by panicky fever dreams and bouts of heavy sweating. Luckily, my hotel has a pretty good room service menu, drawing from both onsite restaurants: one “Asian” and one “European.” I went Asian, of course. Chicken fried rice, bok choy with garlic sauce, and watermelon juice.
I unceremoniously scooped some corn onto the plate between the rice and the bok choy. It was just what the doctor ordered: garlicky, salty, just the right amount of oily, and very filling. The corn was actually a marked improvement on the rice, which lacked texture without it. It didn’t cure the aches and pains, but at least it took my mind off them for a while. And the best part was that The Grandmaster happened to be on TV while I ate.